


The Maintenance of Goodbye

by VespidaeQueen



Series: Simulate Hearts [3]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 20:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5839105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VespidaeQueen/pseuds/VespidaeQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There are things he'll say, when she comes back.</i>
</p><p>Nick and the Sole Survivor part ways at the end of <i>The Molecular Level</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Maintenance of Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tafka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafka/gifts).



> Written for the prompt _Things I wish you’d said_. Sole Survivor's is named Aubrey Cooper.

She’s got maybe five minutes before she’s going to set foot on some god-forsaken teleporter, made from what might as well have been crayon-drawn plans and a healthy dose of guesswork and tape.

It’s a god damned stupid thing to do, but the Institute has her son and that, as they say, is _that_. There’s no talking her out of this.

Not that he would want to. He said he’d help her get her son back, and even if this is a dangerous, bull-headed thing to do, well, it’s got to be done.

She’s crouched down in front of Dogmeat, petting his nose, ears, the back of his neck. “Gonna miss you, boy” she tells him, and Dogmeat jumps up and licks her face until she laughs, chin tilted up so that he can’t get her mouth. “Easy there!  Come on, I have to go. I can’t stay.”

Dogmeat sits back on his haunches, head cocked to the side, and whines.

“Can’t take you with me either, boy,” she says. Her fingers scratch the ridge of his skull. “But I’ve got a job for you, okay? You be a good boy and take care of _him_.” She glances up at Nick, and there’s a furrow between her brows, a softness to her eyes. “Okay?”

Dogmeat whines again and licks her hand.

She stands up, worn fabric of her black trench coat falling smoothly against her thighs. She looks at him, that same soft expression, and something pops, something clunks in his chest. Maybe a gasket, wearing through after all these years.

He’ll need to do some maintenance. After she’s gone.

After she’s...

“So I guess this is goodbye for now,” she says. Her fingers curl up in her gray scarf, the one that might have once been called silver. “Thanks for everything, Nick. I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re a hell of a shot and got one of the best damn brains I’ve run across in the past decade. You’re not too bad with machines, either. You’d have found a way if I wasn’t around,” he tells her. She gives a short, surprised laugh, smiles even as she bites down on half her lower lip.

“Always know just what to say, don’t you.” She fiddles with the end of her scarf. “But look, you did a lot and you didn’t have to. So this is me, saying thank you. Just in case I...just in case.”

Something in the old reactor’s given out. Definitely a gasket. It’s the best explanation, after all.

“When you get back, stop by the agency some time,” he says, as though there’s no question about it. “I’m sure Ellie can drum up some work for us.”

“Us?”

He smiles, groves in his face growing deeper with the expression. “You got me remembering why I like working with a partner,” he says. When _she_  smiles, her whole face lights up.

And then she hugs him.

Getting hugged by Aubrey Cooper is something like getting hit head on by a train. One minute he’s standing there, the next she’s nearly knocked him off balance. He’s suddenly got an armful of flesh, bone, and fabric, and _she’s_ got her arms wrapped around a beat up old sack of metal, and it’s -

Really damn nice.

Except she’s going to hear the clunking in his chest. Damn gasket. Too bad it’s out of warranty.

It’s not like there isn’t a part of him that doesn’t wonder. What she’d say, if he told her. _Hey, looks like the old ticker’s gone and done what an organic heart can do. Not what it’s programmed for, but there it is. Didn’t think all those metal parts had it in them._  

She wouldn’t laugh, that much he’s pretty sure of.

She’s got her arms tight around his waist and her head pressed against his shoulder. Her hair’s all in his face, and it’s a good thing it’s pulled back or he’d worry about it getting caught in the ragged edges of his jaw.

“I’ll visit,” she says, words soft. “When I can.”

She doesn’t let go, and he doesn’t either, arms around her, one hand splayed out over her spine.

“You two lovebirds done?” Deacon’s voice is an unwelcome interruption, and Nick looks up to see him leaning against the door, clad in a dirty set of coveralls and thick gloves. A mechanic today, it seems. “We’re just about ready. Desdemona’s got something for _you_ , so if you’re ready...”

Nick feels the jolt of her chest as she laughs. “Just a minute, Deacon. I’ll be right there.” She leans back, but doesn’t let go. Not quite yet. “Stay safe, okay?”

“With Dogmeat to watch out for me? I think I’ll do all right.” Again, he can feel her laughter. “And...” He thinks, for just a moment. Words that stick in that processor he affectionately calls a brain. Lots of words, or maybe just one or two. Damned foolish words, too.

She’s looking at him. Waiting.

“Do me a favor,” he says, and these words are easier. “Once you’re in there, remember the looks on the faces of those Institute goons.”

“I will,” she says, and she lets go. Brushes a hand over his lapel to smooth it from it’s crumpled state. And then steps back.

He watches her step up onto the platform, unable to hear what Desdemona says to her over the sound of cracking energy. She’s all light up blue and white, standing up there on the slapdash, cobbled together contraption.

She puts her hat on her head just as Tinker Tom starts it up. Pushes it down onto her pinned back hair, and then she looks at him. Right at him, and she smiles.

There’s that clunk in his chest again.

 _When she comes back_ , he thinks, as all the particles that make up Aubrey are begin to scatter away in a flash of electricity. _When she comes back._

And then the transporter explodes, and not a single one of them left standing there knows if she’s made it out or not.


End file.
